Lysimachus, the son of Aristides the Just, and Melesias, the son of the elder
Thucydides, two aged men who live together, are desirous of educating their sons
in the best manner. Their own education, as often happens with the sons of great
men, has been neglected; and they are resolved that their children shall have
more care taken of them, than they received themselves at the hands of their
fathers.

At their request, Nicias and Laches have accompanied them to see a man named
Stesilaus fighting in heavy armour. The two fathers ask the two generals what
they think of this exhibition, and whether they would advise that their sons
should acquire the accomplishment. Nicias and Laches are quite willing to give
their opinion; but they suggest that Socrates should be invited to take part in
the consultation. He is a stranger to Lysimachus, but is afterwards recognised
as the son of his old friend Sophroniscus, with whom he never had a difference
to the hour of his death. Socrates is also known to Nicias, to whom he had
introduced the excellent Damon, musician and sophist, as a tutor for his son,
and to Laches, who had witnessed his heroic behaviour at the battle of Delium
(compare Symp.).

Socrates, as he is younger than either Nicias or Laches, prefers to wait
until they have delivered their opinions, which they give in a characteristic
manner. Nicias, the tactician, is very much in favour of the new art, which he
describes as the gymnastics of war-useful when the ranks are formed, and still
more useful when they are broken; creating a general interest in military
studies, and greatly adding to the appearance of the soldier in the field.
Laches, the blunt warrior, is of opinion that such an art is not knowledge, and
cannot be of any value, because the Lacedaemonians, those great masters of arms,
neglect it. His own experience in actual service has taught him that these
pretenders are useless and ridiculous. This man Stesilaus has been seen by him
on board ship making a very sorry exhibition of himself. The possession of the
art will make the coward rash, and subject the courageous, if he chance to make
a slip, to invidious remarks. And now let Socrates be taken into counsel. As
they differ he must decide.

Socrates would rather not decide the question by a plurality of votes: in
such a serious matter as the education of a friend's children, he would consult
the one skilled person who has had masters, and has works to show as evidences
of his skill. This is not himself; for he has never been able to pay the
sophists for instructing him, and has never had the wit to do or discover
anything. But Nicias and Laches are older and richer than he is: they have had
teachers, and perhaps have made discoveries; and he would have trusted them
entirely, if they had not been diametrically opposed.

Lysimachus here proposes to resign the argument into the hands of the younger
part of the company, as he is old, and has a bad memory. He earnestly requests
Socrates to remain;-in this showing, as Nicias says, how little he knows the
man, who will certainly not go away until he has cross-examined the company
about their past lives. Nicias has often submitted to this process; and Laches
is quite willing to learn from Socrates, because his actions, in the true Dorian
mode, correspond to his words.

Socrates proceeds: We might ask who are our teachers? But a better and more
thorough way of examining the question will be to ask, 'What is Virtue?'-or
rather, to restrict the enquiry to that part of virtue which is concerned with
the use of weapons-'What is Courage?' Laches thinks that he knows this: (1) 'He
is courageous who remains at his post.' But some nations fight flying, after the
manner of Aeneas in Homer; or as the heavy-armed Spartans also did at the battle
of Plataea. (2) Socrates wants a more general definition, not only of military
courage, but of courage of all sorts, tried both amid pleasures and pains.
Laches replies that this universal courage is endurance. But courage is a good
thing, and mere endurance may be hurtful and injurious. Therefore (3) the
element of intelligence must be added. But then again unintelligent endurance
may often be more courageous than the intelligent, the bad than the good. How is
this contradiction to be solved? Socrates and Laches are not set 'to the Dorian
mode' of words and actions; for their words are all confusion, although their
actions are courageous. Still they must 'endure' in an argument about endurance.
Laches is very willing, and is quite sure that he knows what courage is, if he
could only tell.

Nicias is now appealed to; and in reply he offers a definition which he has
heard from Socrates himself, to the effect that (1) 'Courage is intelligence.'
Laches derides this; and Socrates enquires, 'What sort of intelligence?' to
which Nicias replies, 'Intelligence of things terrible.' 'But every man knows
the things to be dreaded in his own art.' 'No they do not. They may predict
results, but cannot tell whether they are really terrible; only the courageous
man can tell that.' Laches draws the inference that the courageous man is either
a soothsayer or a god.

Again, (2) in Nicias' way of speaking, the term 'courageous' must be denied
to animals or children, because they do not know the danger. Against this
inversion of the ordinary use of language Laches reclaims, but is in some degree
mollified by a compliment to his own courage. Still, he does not like to see an
Athenian statesman and general descending to sophistries of this sort. Socrates
resumes the argument. Courage has been defined to be intelligence or knowledge
of the terrible; and courage is not all virtue, but only one of the virtues. The
terrible is in the future, and therefore the knowledge of the terrible is a
knowledge of the future. But there can be no knowledge of future good or evil
separated from a knowledge of the good and evil of the past or present; that is
to say, of all good and evil. Courage, therefore, is the knowledge of good and
evil generally. But he who has the knowledge of good and evil generally, must
not only have courage, but also temperance, justice, and every other virtue.
Thus, a single virtue would be the same as all virtues (compare Protagoras). And
after all the two generals, and Socrates, the hero of Delium, are still in
ignorance of the nature of courage. They must go to school again, boys, old men
and all.

Some points of resemblance, and some points of difference, appear in the
Laches when compared with the Charmides and Lysis. There is less of poetical and
simple beauty, and more of dramatic interest and power. They are richer in the
externals of the scene; the Laches has more play and development of character.
In the Lysis and Charmides the youths are the central figures, and frequent
allusions are made to the place of meeting, which is a palaestra. Here the place
of meeting, which is also a palaestra, is quite forgotten, and the boys play a
subordinate part. The seance is of old and elder men, of whom Socrates is the
youngest.

First is the aged Lysimachus, who may be compared with Cephalus in the
Republic, and, like him, withdraws from the argument. Melesias, who is only his
shadow, also subsides into silence. Both of them, by their own confession, have
been ill-educated, as is further shown by the circumstance that Lysimachus, the
friend of Sophroniscus, has never heard of the fame of Socrates, his son; they
belong to different circles. In the Meno their want of education in all but the
arts of riding and wrestling is adduced as a proof that virtue cannot be taught.
The recognition of Socrates by Lysimachus is extremely graceful; and his
military exploits naturally connect him with the two generals, of whom one has
witnessed them. The characters of Nicias and Laches are indicated by their
opinions on the exhibition of the man fighting in heavy armour. The more
enlightened Nicias is quite ready to accept the new art, which Laches treats
with ridicule, seeming to think that this, or any other military question, may
be settled by asking, 'What do the Lacedaemonians say?' The one is the
thoughtful general, willing to avail himself of any discovery in the art of war
(Aristoph. Aves); the other is the practical man, who relies on his own
experience, and is the enemy of innovation; he can act but cannot speak, and is
apt to lose his temper. It is to be noted that one of them is supposed to be a
hearer of Socrates; the other is only acquainted with his actions. Laches is the
admirer of the Dorian mode; and into his mouth the remark is put that there are
some persons who, having never been taught, are better than those who have. Like
a novice in the art of disputation, he is delighted with the hits of Socrates;
and is disposed to be angry with the refinements of Nicias.

In the discussion of the main thesis of the Dialogue-'What is Courage?' the
antagonism of the two characters is still more clearly brought out; and in this,
as in the preliminary question, the truth is parted between them. Gradually, and
not without difficulty, Laches is made to pass on from the more popular to the
more philosophical; it has never occurred to him that there was any other
courage than that of the soldier; and only by an effort of the mind can he frame
a general notion at all. No sooner has this general notion been formed than it
evanesces before the dialectic of Socrates; and Nicias appears from the other
side with the Socratic doctrine, that courage is knowledge. This is explained to
mean knowledge of things terrible in the future. But Socrates denies that the
knowledge of the future is separable from that of the past and present; in other
words, true knowledge is not that of the soothsayer but of the philosopher. And
all knowledge will thus be equivalent to all virtue-a position which elsewhere
Socrates is not unwilling to admit, but which will not assist us in
distinguishing the nature of courage. In this part of the Dialogue the contrast
between the mode of cross-examination which is practised by Laches and by
Socrates, and also the manner in which the definition of Laches is made to
approximate to that of Nicias, are worthy of attention.

Thus, with some intimation of the connexion and unity of virtue and
knowledge, we arrive at no distinct result. The two aspects of courage are never
harmonized. The knowledge which in the Protagoras is explained as the faculty of
estimating pleasures and pains is here lost in an unmeaning and transcendental
conception. Yet several true intimations of the nature of courage are allowed to
appear: (1) That courage is moral as well as physical: (2) That true courage is
inseparable from knowledge, and yet (3) is based on a natural instinct. Laches
exhibits one aspect of courage; Nicias the other. The perfect image and harmony
of both is only realized in Socrates himself.

The Dialogue offers one among many examples of the freedom with which Plato
treats facts. For the scene must be supposed to have occurred between B.C. 424,
the year of the battle of Delium, and B.C. 418, the year of the battle of
Mantinea, at which Laches fell. But if Socrates was more than seventy years of
age at his trial in 399 (see Apology), he could not have been a young man at any
time after the battle of Delium.

LACHES, OR COURAGE.

PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE: Lysimachus, son of Aristides. Melesias, son of
Thucydides. Their sons. Nicias, Laches, Socrates.

LYSIMACHUS: You have seen the exhibition of the man fighting in armour,
Nicias and Laches, but we did not tell you at the time the reason why my friend
Melesias and I asked you to go with us and see him. I think that we may as well
confess what this was, for we certainly ought not to have any reserve with you.
The reason was, that we were intending to ask your advice. Some laugh at the
very notion of advising others, and when they are asked will not say what they
think. They guess at the wishes of the person who asks them, and answer
according to his, and not according to their own, opinion. But as we know that
you are good judges, and will say exactly what you think, we have taken you into
our counsels. The matter about which I am making all this preface is as follows:
Melesias and I have two sons; that is his son, and he is named Thucydides, after
his grandfather; and this is mine, who is also called after his grandfather,
Aristides. Now, we are resolved to take the greatest care of the youths, and not
to let them run about as they like, which is too often the way with the young,
when they are no longer children, but to begin at once and do the utmost that we
can for them. And knowing you to have sons of your own, we thought that you were
most likely to have attended to their training and improvement, and, if
perchance you have not attended to them, we may remind you that you ought to
have done so, and would invite you to assist us in the fulfilment of a common
duty. I will tell you, Nicias and Laches, even at the risk of being tedious, how
we came to think of this. Melesias and I live together, and our sons live with
us; and now, as I was saying at first, we are going to confess to you. Both of
us often talk to the lads about the many noble deeds which our own fathers did
in war and peace-in the management of the allies, and in the administration of
the city; but neither of us has any deeds of his own which he can show. The
truth is that we are ashamed of this contrast being seen by them, and we blame
our fathers for letting us be spoiled in the days of our youth, while they were
occupied with the concerns of others; and we urge all this upon the lads,
pointing out to them that they will not grow up to honour if they are rebellious
and take no pains about themselves; but that if they take pains they may,
perhaps, become worthy of the names which they bear. They, on their part,
promise to comply with our wishes; and our care is to discover what studies or
pursuits are likely to be most improving to them. Some one commended to us the
art of fighting in armour, which he thought an excellent accomplishment for a
young man to learn; and he praised the man whose exhibition you have seen, and
told us to go and see him. And we determined that we would go, and get you to
accompany us; and we were intending at the same time, if you did not object, to
take counsel with you about the education of our sons. That is the matter which
we wanted to talk over with you; and we hope that you will give us your opinion
about this art of fighting in armour, and about any other studies or pursuits
which may or may not be desirable for a young man to learn. Please to say
whether you agree to our proposal.

NICIAS: As far as I am concerned, Lysimachus and Melesias, I applaud your
purpose, and will gladly assist you; and I believe that you, Laches, will be
equally glad.

LACHES: Certainly, Nicias; and I quite approve of the remark which Lysimachus
made about his own father and the father of Melesias, and which is applicable,
not only to them, but to us, and to every one who is occupied with public
affairs. As he says, such persons are too apt to be negligent and careless of
their own children and their private concerns. There is much truth in that
remark of yours, Lysimachus. But why, instead of consulting us, do you not
consult our friend Socrates about the education of the youths? He is of the same
deme with you, and is always passing his time in places where the youth have any
noble study or pursuit, such as you are enquiring after.

LYSIMACHUS: Why, Laches, has Socrates ever attended to matters of this sort?

LACHES: Certainly, Lysimachus.

NICIAS: That I have the means of knowing as well as Laches; for quite lately
he supplied me with a teacher of music for my sons,-Damon, the disciple of
Agathocles, who is a most accomplished man in every way, as well as a musician,
and a companion of inestimable value for young men at their age.

LYSIMACHUS: Those who have reached my time of life, Socrates and Nicias and
Laches, fall out of acquaintance with the young, because they are generally
detained at home by old age; but you, O son of Sophroniscus, should let your
fellow demesman have the benefit of any advice which you are able to give.
Moreover I have a claim upon you as an old friend of your father; for I and he
were always companions and friends, and to the hour of his death there never was
a difference between us; and now it comes back to me, at the mention of your
name, that I have heard these lads talking to one another at home, and often
speaking of Socrates in terms of the highest praise; but I have never thought to
ask them whether the son of Sophroniscus was the person whom they meant. Tell
me, my boys, whether this is the Socrates of whom you have often spoken?

SON: Certainly, father, this is he.

LYSIMACHUS: I am delighted to hear, Socrates, that you maintain the name of
your father, who was a most excellent man; and I further rejoice at the prospect
of our family ties being renewed.

LACHES: Indeed, Lysimachus, you ought not to give him up; for I can assure
you that I have seen him maintaining, not only his father's, but also his
country's name. He was my companion in the retreat from Delium, and I can tell
you that if others had only been like him, the honour of our country would have
been upheld, and the great defeat would never have occurred.

LYSIMACHUS: That is very high praise which is accorded to you, Socrates, by
faithful witnesses and for actions like those which they praise. Let me tell you
the pleasure which I feel in hearing of your fame; and I hope that you will
regard me as one of your warmest friends. You ought to have visited us long ago,
and made yourself at home with us; but now, from this day forward, as we have at
last found one another out, do as I say-come and make acquaintance with me, and
with these young men, that I may continue your friend, as I was your father's. I
shall expect you to do so, and shall venture at some future time to remind you
of your duty. But what say you of the matter of which we were beginning to
speak-the art of fighting in armour? Is that a practice in which the lads may be
advantageously instructed?

SOCRATES: I will endeavour to advise you, Lysimachus, as far as I can in this
matter, and also in every way will comply with your wishes; but as I am younger
and not so experienced, I think that I ought certainly to hear first what my
elders have to say, and to learn of them, and if I have anything to add, then I
may venture to give my opinion to them as well as to you. Suppose, Nicias, that
one or other of you begin.

NICIAS: I have no objection, Socrates; and my opinion is that the acquirement
of this art is in many ways useful to young men. It is an advantage to them that
among the favourite amusements of their leisure hours they should have one which
tends to improve and not to injure their bodily health. No gymnastics could be
better or harder exercise; and this, and the art of riding, are of all arts most
befitting to a freeman; for they only who are thus trained in the use of arms
are the athletes of our military profession, trained in that on which the
conflict turns. Moreover in actual battle, when you have to fight in a line with
a number of others, such an acquirement will be of some use, and will be of the
greatest whenever the ranks are broken and you have to fight singly, either in
pursuit, when you are attacking some one who is defending himself, or in flight,
when you have to defend yourself against an assailant. Certainly he who
possessed the art could not meet with any harm at the hands of a single person,
or perhaps of several; and in any case he would have a great advantage. Further,
this sort of skill inclines a man to the love of other noble lessons; for every
man who has learned how to fight in armour will desire to learn the proper
arrangement of an army, which is the sequel of the lesson: and when he has
learned this, and his ambition is once fired, he will go on to learn the
complete art of the general. There is no difficulty in seeing that the knowledge
and practice of other military arts will be honourable and valuable to a man;
and this lesson may be the beginning of them. Let me add a further advantage,
which is by no means a slight one,-that this science will make any man a great
deal more valiant and self-possessed in the field. And I will not disdain to
mention, what by some may be thought to be a small matter;-he will make a better
appearance at the right time; that is to say, at the time when his appearance
will strike terror into his enemies. My opinion then, Lysimachus, is, as I say,
that the youths should be instructed in this art, and for the reasons which I
have given. But Laches may take a different view; and I shall be very glad to
hear what he has to say.

LACHES: I should not like to maintain, Nicias, that any kind of knowledge is
not to be learned; for all knowledge appears to be a good: and if, as Nicias and
as the teachers of the art affirm, this use of arms is really a species of
knowledge, then it ought to be learned; but if not, and if those who profess to
teach it are deceivers only; or if it be knowledge, but not of a valuable sort,
then what is the use of learning it? I say this, because I think that if it had
been really valuable, the Lacedaemonians, whose whole life is passed in finding
out and practising the arts which give them an advantage over other nations in
war, would have discovered this one. And even if they had not, still these
professors of the art would certainly not have failed to discover that of all
the Hellenes the Lacedaemonians have the greatest interest in such matters, and
that a master of the art who was honoured among them would be sure to make his
fortune among other nations, just as a tragic poet would who is honoured among
ourselves; which is the reason why he who fancies that he can write a tragedy
does not go about itinerating in the neighbouring states, but rushes hither
straight, and exhibits at Athens; and this is natural. Whereas I perceive that
these fighters in armour regard Lacedaemon as a sacred inviolable territory,
which they do not touch with the point of their foot; but they make a circuit of
the neighbouring states, and would rather exhibit to any others than to the
Spartans; and particularly to those who would themselves acknowledge that they
are by no means firstrate in the arts of war. Further, Lysimachus, I have
encountered a good many of these gentlemen in actual service, and have taken
their measure, which I can give you at once; for none of these masters of fence
have ever been distinguished in war,-there has been a sort of fatality about
them; while in all other arts the men of note have been always those who have
practised the art, they appear to be a most unfortunate exception. For example,
this very Stesilaus, whom you and I have just witnessed exhibiting in all that
crowd and making such great professions of his powers, I have seen at another
time making, in sober truth, an involuntary exhibition of himself, which was a
far better spectacle. He was a marine on board a ship which struck a transport
vessel, and was armed with a weapon, half spear, half scythe; the singularity of
this weapon was worthy of the singularity of the man. To make a long story
short, I will only tell you what happened to this notable invention of the
scythe spear. He was fighting, and the scythe was caught in the rigging of the
other ship, and stuck fast; and he tugged, but was unable to get his weapon
free. The two ships were passing one another. He first ran along his own ship
holding on to the spear; but as the other ship passed by and drew him after as
he was holding on, he let the spear slip through his hand until he retained only
the end of the handle. The people in the transport clapped their hands, and
laughed at his ridiculous figure; and when some one threw a stone, which fell on
the deck at his feet, and he quitted his hold of the scythe-spear, the crew of
his own trireme also burst out laughing; they could not refrain when they beheld
the weapon waving in the air, suspended from the transport. Now I do not deny
that there may be something in such an art, as Nicias asserts, but I tell you my
experience; and, as I said at first, whether this be an art of which the
advantage is so slight, or not an art at all, but only an imposition, in either
case such an acquirement is not worth having. For my opinion is, that if the
professor of this art be a coward, he will be likely to become rash, and his
character will be only more notorious; or if he be brave, and fail ever so
little, other men will be on the watch, and he will be greatly traduced; for
there is a jealousy of such pretenders; and unless a man be pre-eminent in
valour, he cannot help being ridiculous, if he says that he has this sort of
skill. Such is my judgment, Lysimachus, of the desirableness of this art; but,
as I said at first, ask Socrates, and do not let him go until he has given you
his opinion of the matter.

LYSIMACHUS: I am going to ask this favour of you, Socrates; as is the more
necessary because the two councillors disagree, and some one is in a manner
still needed who will decide between them. Had they agreed, no arbiter would
have been required. But as Laches has voted one way and Nicias another, I should
like to hear with which of our two friends you agree.

SOCRATES: What, Lysimachus, are you going to accept the opinion of the
majority?

LYSIMACHUS: Why, yes, Socrates; what else am I to do?

SOCRATES: And would you do so too, Melesias? If you were deliberating about
the gymnastic training of your son, would you follow the advice of the majority
of us, or the opinion of the one who had been trained and exercised under a
skilful master?

MELESIAS: The latter, Socrates; as would surely be reasonable.

SOCRATES: His one vote would be worth more than the vote of all us four?

MELESIAS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: And for this reason, as I imagine,-because a good decision is based
on knowledge and not on numbers?

MELESIAS: To be sure.

SOCRATES: Must we not then first of all ask, whether there is any one of us
who has knowledge of that about which we are deliberating? If there is, let us
take his advice, though he be one only, and not mind the rest; if there is not,
let us seek further counsel. Is this a slight matter about which you and
Lysimachus are deliberating? Are you not risking the greatest of your
possessions? For children are your riches; and upon their turning out well or
ill depends the whole order of their father's house.

MELESIAS: That is true.

SOCRATES: Great care, then, is required in this matter?

MELESIAS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: Suppose, as I was just now saying, that we were considering, or
wanting to consider, who was the best trainer. Should we not select him who knew
and had practised the art, and had the best teachers?

MELESIAS: I think that we should.

SOCRATES: But would there not arise a prior question about the nature of the
art of which we want to find the masters?

MELESIAS: I do not understand.

SOCRATES: Let me try to make my meaning plainer then. I do not think that we
have as yet decided what that is about which we are consulting, when we ask
which of us is or is not skilled in the art, and has or has not had a teacher of
the art.

NICIAS: Why, Socrates, is not the question whether young men ought or ought
not to learn the art of fighting in armour?

SOCRATES: Yes, Nicias; but there is also a prior question, which I may
illustrate in this way: When a person considers about applying a medicine to the
eyes, would you say that he is consulting about the medicine or about the eyes?

NICIAS: About the eyes.

SOCRATES: And when he considers whether he shall set a bridle on a horse and
at what time, he is thinking of the horse and not of the bridle?

NICIAS: True.

SOCRATES: And in a word, when he considers anything for the sake of another
thing, he thinks of the end and not of the means?

NICIAS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: And when you call in an adviser, you should see whether he too is
skilful in the accomplishment of the end which you have in view?

NICIAS: Most true.

SOCRATES: And at present we have in view some knowledge, of which the end is
the soul of youth?

NICIAS: Yes.

SOCRATES: And we are enquiring, Which of us is skilful or successful in the
treatment of the soul, and which of us has had good teachers?

LACHES: Well but, Socrates; did you never observe that some persons, who have
had no teachers, are more skilful than those who have, in some things?

SOCRATES: Yes, Laches, I have observed that; but you would not be very
willing to trust them if they only professed to be masters of their art, unless
they could show some proof of their skill or excellence in one or more works.

LACHES: That is true.

SOCRATES: And therefore, Laches and Nicias, as Lysimachus and Melesias, in
their anxiety to improve the minds of their sons, have asked our advice about
them, we too should tell them who our teachers were, if we say that we have had
any, and prove them to be in the first place men of merit and experienced
trainers of the minds of youth and also to have been really our teachers. Or if
any of us says that he has no teacher, but that he has works of his own to show;
then he should point out to them what Athenians or strangers, bond or free, he
is generally acknowledged to have improved. But if he can show neither teachers
nor works, then he should tell them to look out for others; and not run the risk
of spoiling the children of friends, and thereby incurring the most formidable
accusation which can be brought against any one by those nearest to him. As for
myself, Lysimachus and Melesias, I am the first to confess that I have never had
a teacher of the art of virtue; although I have always from my earliest youth
desired to have one. But I am too poor to give money to the Sophists, who are
the only professors of moral improvement; and to this day I have never been able
to discover the art myself, though I should not be surprised if Nicias or Laches
may have discovered or learned it; for they are far wealthier than I am, and may
therefore have learnt of others. And they are older too; so that they have had
more time to make the discovery. And I really believe that they are able to
educate a man; for unless they had been confident in their own knowledge, they
would never have spoken thus decidedly of the pursuits which are advantageous or
hurtful to a young man. I repose confidence in both of them; but I am surprised
to find that they differ from one another. And therefore, Lysimachus, as Laches
suggested that you should detain me, and not let me go until I answered, I in
turn earnestly beseech and advise you to detain Laches and Nicias, and question
them. I would have you say to them: Socrates avers that he has no knowledge of
the matter-he is unable to decide which of you speaks truly; neither discoverer
nor student is he of anything of the kind. But you, Laches and Nicias, should
each of you tell us who is the most skilful educator whom you have ever known;
and whether you invented the art yourselves, or learned of another; and if you
learned, who were your respective teachers, and who were their brothers in the
art; and then, if you are too much occupied in politics to teach us yourselves,
let us go to them, and present them with gifts, or make interest with them, or
both, in the hope that they may be induced to take charge of our children and of
yours; and then they will not grow up inferior, and disgrace their ancestors.
But if you are yourselves original discoverers in that field, give us some proof
of your skill. Who are they who, having been inferior persons, have become under
your care good and noble? For if this is your first attempt at education, there
is a danger that you may be trying the experiment, not on the 'vile corpus' of a
Carian slave, but on your own sons, or the sons of your friend, and, as the
proverb says, 'break the large vessel in learning to make pots.' Tell us then,
what qualities you claim or do not claim. Make them tell you that, Lysimachus,
and do not let them off.

LYSIMACHUS: I very much approve of the words of Socrates, my friends; but
you, Nicias and Laches, must determine whether you will be questioned, and give
an explanation about matters of this sort. Assuredly, I and Melesias would be
greatly pleased to hear you answer the questions which Socrates asks, if you
will: for I began by saying that we took you into our counsels because we
thought that you would have attended to the subject, especially as you have
children who, like our own, are nearly of an age to be educated. Well, then, if
you have no objection, suppose that you take Socrates into partnership; and do
you and he ask and answer one another's questions: for, as he has well said, we
are deliberating about the most important of our concerns. I hope that you will
see fit to comply with our request.

NICIAS: I see very clearly, Lysimachus, that you have only known Socrates'
father, and have no acquaintance with Socrates himself: at least, you can only
have known him when he was a child, and may have met him among his fellow-wardsmen,
in company with his father, at a sacrifice, or at some other gathering. You
clearly show that you have never known him since he arrived at manhood.

LYSIMACHUS: Why do you say that, Nicias?

NICIAS: Because you seem not to be aware that any one who has an intellectual
affinity to Socrates and enters into conversation with him is liable to be drawn
into an argument; and whatever subject he may start, he will be continually
carried round and round by him, until at last he finds that he has to give an
account both of his present and past life; and when he is once entangled,
Socrates will not let him go until he has completely and thoroughly sifted him.
Now I am used to his ways; and I know that he will certainly do as I say, and
also that I myself shall be the sufferer; for I am fond of his conversation,
Lysimachus. And I think that there is no harm in being reminded of any wrong
thing which we are, or have been, doing: he who does not fly from reproof will
be sure to take more heed of his after-life; as Solon says, he will wish and
desire to be learning so long as he lives, and will not think that old age of
itself brings wisdom. To me, to be cross-examined by Socrates is neither unusual
nor unpleasant; indeed, I knew all along that where Socrates was, the argument
would soon pass from our sons to ourselves; and therefore, I say that for my
part, I am quite willing to discourse with Socrates in his own manner; but you
had better ask our friend Laches what his feeling may be.

LACHES: I have but one feeling, Nicias, or (shall I say?) two feelings, about
discussions. Some would think that I am a lover, and to others I may seem to be
a hater of discourse; for when I hear a man discoursing of virtue, or of any
sort of wisdom, who is a true man and worthy of his theme, I am delighted beyond
measure: and I compare the man and his words, and note the harmony and
correspondence of them. And such an one I deem to be the true musician, attuned
to a fairer harmony than that of the lyre, or any pleasant instrument of music;
for truly he has in his own life a harmony of words and deeds arranged, not in
the Ionian, or in the Phrygian mode, nor yet in the Lydian, but in the true
Hellenic mode, which is the Dorian, and no other. Such an one makes me merry
with the sound of his voice; and when I hear him I am thought to be a lover of
discourse; so eager am I in drinking in his words. But a man whose actions do
not agree with his words is an annoyance to me; and the better he speaks the
more I hate him, and then I seem to be a hater of discourse. As to Socrates, I
have no knowledge of his words, but of old, as would seem, I have had experience
of his deeds; and his deeds show that free and noble sentiments are natural to
him. And if his words accord, then I am of one mind with him, and shall be
delighted to be interrogated by a man such as he is, and shall not be annoyed at
having to learn of him: for I too agree with Solon, 'that I would fain grow old,
learning many things.' But I must be allowed to add 'of the good only.' Socrates
must be willing to allow that he is a good teacher, or I shall be a dull and
uncongenial pupil: but that the teacher is younger, or not as yet in
repute-anything of that sort is of no account with me. And therefore, Socrates,
I give you notice that you may teach and confute me as much as ever you like,
and also learn of me anything which I know. So high is the opinion which I have
entertained of you ever since the day on which you were my companion in danger,
and gave a proof of your valour such as only the man of merit can give.
Therefore, say whatever you like, and do not mind about the difference of our
ages.

SOCRATES: I cannot say that either of you show any reluctance to take counsel
and advise with me.

LYSIMACHUS: But this is our proper business; and yours as well as ours, for I
reckon you as one of us. Please then to take my place, and find out from Nicias
and Laches what we want to know, for the sake of the youths, and talk and
consult with them: for I am old, and my memory is bad; and I do not remember the
questions which I am going to ask, or the answers to them; and if there is any
interruption I am quite lost. I will therefore beg of you to carry on the
proposed discussion by your selves; and I will listen, and Melesias and I will
act upon your conclusions.

SOCRATES: Let us, Nicias and Laches, comply with the request of Lysimachus
and Melesias. There will be no harm in asking ourselves the question which was
first proposed to us: 'Who have been our own instructors in this sort of
training, and whom have we made better?' But the other mode of carrying on the
enquiry will bring us equally to the same point, and will be more like
proceeding from first principles. For if we knew that the addition of something
would improve some other thing, and were able to make the addition, then,
clearly, we must know how that about which we are advising may be best and most
easily attained. Perhaps you do not understand what I mean. Then let me make my
meaning plainer in this way. Suppose we knew that the addition of sight makes
better the eyes which possess this gift, and also were able to impart sight to
the eyes, then, clearly, we should know the nature of sight, and should be able
to advise how this gift of sight may be best and most easily attained; but if we
knew neither what sight is, nor what hearing is, we should not be very good
medical advisers about the eyes or the ears, or about the best mode of giving
sight and hearing to them.

LACHES: That is true, Socrates.

SOCRATES: And are not our two friends, Laches, at this very moment inviting
us to consider in what way the gift of virtue may be imparted to their sons for
the improvement of their minds?

LACHES: Very true.

SOCRATES: Then must we not first know the nature of virtue? For how can we
advise any one about the best mode of attaining something of which we are wholly
ignorant?

LACHES: I do not think that we can, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Then, Laches, we may presume that we know the nature of virtue?

LACHES: Yes.

SOCRATES: And that which we know we must surely be able to tell?

LACHES: Certainly.

SOCRATES: I would not have us begin, my friend, with enquiring about the
whole of virtue; for that may be more than we can accomplish; let us first
consider whether we have a sufficient knowledge of a part; the enquiry will thus
probably be made easier to us.

LACHES: Let us do as you say, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Then which of the parts of virtue shall we select? Must we not
select that to which the art of fighting in armour is supposed to conduce? And
is not that generally thought to be courage?

LACHES: Yes, certainly.

SOCRATES: Then, Laches, suppose that we first set about determining the
nature of courage, and in the second place proceed to enquire how the young men
may attain this quality by the help of studies and pursuits. Tell me, if you
can, what is courage.

LACHES: Indeed, Socrates, I see no difficulty in answering; he is a man of
courage who does not run away, but remains at his post and fights against the
enemy; there can be no mistake about that.

SOCRATES: Very good, Laches; and yet I fear that I did not express myself
clearly; and therefore you have answered not the question which I intended to
ask, but another.

LACHES: What do you mean, Socrates?

SOCRATES: I will endeavour to explain; you would call a man courageous who
remains at his post, and fights with the enemy?

LACHES: Certainly I should.

SOCRATES: And so should I; but what would you say of another man, who fights
flying, instead of remaining?

LACHES: How flying?

SOCRATES: Why, as the Scythians are said to fight, flying as well as
pursuing; and as Homer says in praise of the horses of Aeneas, that they knew
'how to pursue, and fly quickly hither and thither'; and he passes an encomium
on Aeneas himself, as having a knowledge of fear or flight, and calls him 'an
author of fear or flight.'

LACHES: Yes, Socrates, and there Homer is right: for he was speaking of
chariots, as you were speaking of the Scythian cavalry, who have that way of
fighting; but the heavy-armed Greek fights, as I say, remaining in his rank.

SOCRATES: And yet, Laches, you must except the Lacedaemonians at Plataea,
who, when they came upon the light shields of the Persians, are said not to have
been willing to stand and fight, and to have fled; but when the ranks of the
Persians were broken, they turned upon them like cavalry, and won the battle of
Plataea.

LACHES: That is true.

SOCRATES: That was my meaning when I said that I was to blame in having put
my question badly, and that this was the reason of your answering badly. For I
meant to ask you not only about the courage of heavy-armed soldiers, but about
the courage of cavalry and every other style of soldier; and not only who are
courageous in war, but who are courageous in perils by sea, and who in disease,
or in poverty, or again in politics, are courageous; and not only who are
courageous against pain or fear, but mighty to contend against desires and
pleasures, either fixed in their rank or turning upon their enemy. There is this
sort of courage-is there not, Laches?

LACHES: Certainly, Socrates.

SOCRATES: And all these are courageous, but some have courage in pleasures,
and some in pains: some in desires, and some in fears, and some are cowards
under the same conditions, as I should imagine.

LACHES: Very true.

SOCRATES: Now I was asking about courage and cowardice in general. And I will
begin with courage, and once more ask, What is that common quality, which is the
same in all these cases, and which is called courage? Do you now understand what
I mean?

LACHES: Not over well.

SOCRATES: I mean this: As I might ask what is that quality which is called
quickness, and which is found in running, in playing the lyre, in speaking, in
learning, and in many other similar actions, or rather which we possess in
nearly every action that is worth mentioning of arms, legs, mouth, voice,
mind;-would you not apply the term quickness to all of them?

LACHES: Quite true.

SOCRATES: And suppose I were to be asked by some one: What is that common
quality, Socrates, which, in all these uses of the word, you call quickness? I
should say the quality which accomplishes much in a little time-whether in
running, speaking, or in any other sort of action.

LACHES: You would be quite correct.

SOCRATES: And now, Laches, do you try and tell me in like manner, What is
that common quality which is called courage, and which includes all the various
uses of the term when applied both to pleasure and pain, and in all the cases to
which I was just now referring?

LACHES: I should say that courage is a sort of endurance of the soul, if I am
to speak of the universal nature which pervades them all.

SOCRATES: But that is what we must do if we are to answer the question. And
yet I cannot say that every kind of endurance is, in my opinion, to be deemed
courage. Hear my reason: I am sure, Laches, that you would consider courage to
be a very noble quality.

LACHES: Most noble, certainly.

SOCRATES: And you would say that a wise endurance is also good and noble?

LACHES: Very noble.

SOCRATES: But what would you say of a foolish endurance? Is not that, on the
other hand, to be regarded as evil and hurtful?

LACHES: True.

SOCRATES: And is anything noble which is evil and hurtful?

LACHES: I ought not to say that, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Then you would not admit that sort of endurance to be courage- for
it is not noble, but courage is noble?

LACHES: You are right.

SOCRATES: Then, according to you, only the wise endurance is courage?

LACHES: True.

SOCRATES: But as to the epithet 'wise,'-wise in what? In all things small as
well as great? For example, if a man shows the quality of endurance in spending
his money wisely, knowing that by spending he will acquire more in the end, do
you call him courageous?

LACHES: Assuredly not.

SOCRATES: Or, for example, if a man is a physician, and his son, or some
patient of his, has inflammation of the lungs, and begs that he may be allowed
to eat or drink something, and the other is firm and refuses; is that courage?

LACHES: No; that is not courage at all, any more than the last.

SOCRATES: Again, take the case of one who endures in war, and is willing to
fight, and wisely calculates and knows that others will help him, and that there
will be fewer and inferior men against him than there are with him; and suppose
that he has also advantages of position; would you say of such a one who endures
with all this wisdom and preparation, that he, or some man in the opposing army
who is in the opposite circumstances to these and yet endures and remains at his
post, is the braver?

LACHES: I should say that the latter, Socrates, was the braver.

SOCRATES: But, surely, this is a foolish endurance in comparison with the
other?

LACHES: That is true.

SOCRATES: Then you would say that he who in an engagement of cavalry endures,
having the knowledge of horsemanship, is not so courageous as he who endures,
having no such knowledge?

LACHES: So I should say.

SOCRATES: And he who endures, having a knowledge of the use of the sling, or
the bow, or of any other art, is not so courageous as he who endures, not having
such a knowledge?

LACHES: True.

SOCRATES: And he who descends into a well, and dives, and holds out in this
or any similar action, having no knowledge of diving, or the like, is, as you
would say, more courageous than those who have this knowledge?

LACHES: Why, Socrates, what else can a man say?

SOCRATES: Nothing, if that be what he thinks.

LACHES: But that is what I do think.

SOCRATES: And yet men who thus run risks and endure are foolish, Laches, in
comparison of those who do the same things, having the skill to do them.

LACHES: That is true.

SOCRATES: But foolish boldness and endurance appeared before to be base and
hurtful to us.

LACHES: Quite true.

SOCRATES: Whereas courage was acknowledged to be a noble quality.

LACHES: True.

SOCRATES: And now on the contrary we are saying that the foolish endurance,
which was before held in dishonour, is courage.

LACHES: Very true.

SOCRATES: And are we right in saying so?

LACHES: Indeed, Socrates, I am sure that we are not right.

SOCRATES: Then according to your statement, you and I, Laches, are not
attuned to the Dorian mode, which is a harmony of words and deeds; for our deeds
are not in accordance with our words. Any one would say that we had courage who
saw us in action, but not, I imagine, he who heard us talking about courage just
now.

LACHES: That is most true.

SOCRATES: And is this condition of ours satisfactory?

LACHES: Quite the reverse.

SOCRATES: Suppose, however, that we admit the principle of which we are
speaking to a certain extent.

LACHES: To what extent and what principle do you mean?

SOCRATES: The principle of endurance. We too must endure and persevere in the
enquiry, and then courage will not laugh at our faint-heartedness in searching
for courage; which after all may, very likely, be endurance.

LACHES: I am ready to go on, Socrates; and yet I am unused to investigations
of this sort. But the spirit of controversy has been aroused in me by what has
been said; and I am really grieved at being thus unable to express my meaning.
For I fancy that I do know the nature of courage; but, somehow or other, she has
slipped away from me, and I cannot get hold of her and tell her nature.

SOCRATES: But, my dear friend, should not the good sportsman follow the
track, and not be lazy?

LACHES: Certainly, he should.

SOCRATES: And shall we invite Nicias to join us? he may be better at the
sport than we are. What do you say?

LACHES: I should like that.

SOCRATES: Come then, Nicias, and do what you can to help your friends, who
are tossing on the waves of argument, and at the last gasp: you see our
extremity, and may save us and also settle your own opinion, if you will tell us
what you think about courage.

NICIAS: I have been thinking, Socrates, that you and Laches are not defining
courage in the right way; for you have forgotten an excellent saying which I
have heard from your own lips.

SOCRATES: What is it, Nicias?

NICIAS: I have often heard you say that 'Every man is good in that in which
he is wise, and bad in that in which he is unwise.'

SOCRATES: That is certainly true, Nicias.

NICIAS: And therefore if the brave man is good, he is also wise.

SOCRATES: Do you hear him, Laches?

LACHES: Yes, I hear him, but I do not very well understand him.

SOCRATES: I think that I understand him; and he appears to me to mean that
courage is a sort of wisdom.

LACHES: What can he possibly mean, Socrates?

SOCRATES: That is a question which you must ask of himself.

LACHES: Yes.

SOCRATES: Tell him then, Nicias, what you mean by this wisdom; for you surely
do not mean the wisdom which plays the flute?

NICIAS: Certainly not.

SOCRATES: Nor the wisdom which plays the lyre?

NICIAS: No.

SOCRATES: But what is this knowledge then, and of what?

LACHES: I think that you put the question to him very well, Socrates; and I
would like him to say what is the nature of this knowledge or wisdom.

NICIAS: I mean to say, Laches, that courage is the knowledge of that which
inspires fear or confidence in war, or in anything.

LACHES: How strangely he is talking, Socrates.

SOCRATES: Why do you say so, Laches?

LACHES: Why, surely courage is one thing, and wisdom another.

SOCRATES: That is just what Nicias denies.

LACHES: Yes, that is what he denies; but he is so silly.

SOCRATES: Suppose that we instruct instead of abusing him?

NICIAS: Laches does not want to instruct me, Socrates; but having been proved
to be talking nonsense himself, he wants to prove that I have been doing the
same.

LACHES: Very true, Nicias; and you are talking nonsense, as I shall endeavour
to show. Let me ask you a question: Do not physicians know the dangers of
disease? or do the courageous know them? or are the physicians the same as the
courageous?

NICIAS: Not at all.

LACHES: No more than the husbandmen who know the dangers of husbandry, or
than other craftsmen, who have a knowledge of that which inspires them with fear
or confidence in their own arts, and yet they are not courageous a whit the more
for that.

SOCRATES: What is Laches saying, Nicias? He appears to be saying something of
importance.

NICIAS: Yes, he is saying something, but it is not true.

SOCRATES: How so?

NICIAS: Why, because he does not see that the physician's knowledge only
extends to the nature of health and disease: he can tell the sick man no more
than this. Do you imagine, Laches, that the physician knows whether health or
disease is the more terrible to a man? Had not many a man better never get up
from a sick bed? I should like to know whether you think that life is always
better than death. May not death often be the better of the two?

LACHES: Yes certainly so in my opinion.

NICIAS: And do you think that the same things are terrible to those who had
better die, and to those who had better live?

LACHES: Certainly not.

NICIAS: And do you suppose that the physician or any other artist knows this,
or any one indeed, except he who is skilled in the grounds of fear and hope? And
him I call the courageous.

SOCRATES: Do you understand his meaning, Laches?

LACHES: Yes; I suppose that, in his way of speaking, the soothsayers are
courageous. For who but one of them can know to whom to die or to live is
better? And yet Nicias, would you allow that you are yourself a soothsayer, or
are you neither a soothsayer nor courageous?

NICIAS: What! do you mean to say that the soothsayer ought to know the
grounds of hope or fear?

LACHES: Indeed I do: who but he?

NICIAS: Much rather I should say he of whom I speak; for the soothsayer ought
to know only the signs of things that are about to come to pass, whether death
or disease, or loss of property, or victory, or defeat in war, or in any sort of
contest; but to whom the suffering or not suffering of these things will be for
the best, can no more be decided by the soothsayer than by one who is no
soothsayer.

LACHES: I cannot understand what Nicias would be at, Socrates; for he
represents the courageous man as neither a soothsayer, nor a physician, nor in
any other character, unless he means to say that he is a god. My opinion is that
he does not like honestly to confess that he is talking nonsense, but that he
shuffles up and down in order to conceal the difficulty into which he has got
himself. You and I, Socrates, might have practised a similar shuffle just now,
if we had only wanted to avoid the appearance of inconsistency. And if we had
been arguing in a court of law there might have been reason in so doing; but why
should a man deck himself out with vain words at a meeting of friends such as
this?

SOCRATES: I quite agree with you, Laches, that he should not. But perhaps
Nicias is serious, and not merely talking for the sake of talking. Let us ask
him just to explain what he means, and if he has reason on his side we will
agree with him; if not, we will instruct him.

LACHES: Do you, Socrates, if you like, ask him: I think that I have asked
enough.

SOCRATES: I do not see why I should not; and my question will do for both of
us.

LACHES: Very good.

SOCRATES: Then tell me, Nicias, or rather tell us, for Laches and I are
partners in the argument: Do you mean to affirm that courage is the knowledge of
the grounds of hope and fear?

NICIAS: I do.

SOCRATES: And not every man has this knowledge; the physician and the
soothsayer have it not; and they will not be courageous unless they acquire
it-that is what you were saying?

NICIAS: I was.

SOCRATES: Then this is certainly not a thing which every pig would know, as
the proverb says, and therefore he could not be courageous.

NICIAS: I think not.

SOCRATES: Clearly not, Nicias; not even such a big pig as the Crommyonian sow
would be called by you courageous. And this I say not as a joke, but because I
think that he who assents to your doctrine, that courage is the knowledge of the
grounds of fear and hope, cannot allow that any wild beast is courageous, unless
he admits that a lion, or a leopard, or perhaps a boar, or any other animal, has
such a degree of wisdom that he knows things which but a few human beings ever
know by reason of their difficulty. He who takes your view of courage must
affirm that a lion, and a stag, and a bull, and a monkey, have equally little
pretensions to courage.

LACHES: Capital, Socrates; by the gods, that is truly good. And I hope,
Nicias, that you will tell us whether these animals, which we all admit to be
courageous, are really wiser than mankind; or whether you will have the
boldness, in the face of universal opinion, to deny their courage.

NICIAS: Why, Laches, I do not call animals or any other things which have no
fear of dangers, because they are ignorant of them, courageous, but only
fearless and senseless. Do you imagine that I should call little children
courageous, which fear no dangers because they know none? There is a difference,
to my way of thinking, between fearlessness and courage. I am of opinion that
thoughtful courage is a quality possessed by very few, but that rashness and
boldness, and fearlessness, which has no forethought, are very common qualities
possessed by many men, many women, many children, many animals. And you, and men
in general, call by the term 'courageous' actions which I call rash;-my
courageous actions are wise actions.

LACHES: Behold, Socrates, how admirably, as he thinks, he dresses himself out
in words, while seeking to deprive of the honour of courage those whom all the
world acknowledges to be courageous.

NICIAS: Not so, Laches, but do not be alarmed; for I am quite willing to say
of you and also of Lamachus, and of many other Athenians, that you are
courageous and therefore wise.

LACHES: I could answer that; but I would not have you cast in my teeth that I
am a haughty Aexonian.

SOCRATES: Do not answer him, Laches; I rather fancy that you are not aware of
the source from which his wisdom is derived. He has got all this from my friend
Damon, and Damon is always with Prodicus, who, of all the Sophists, is
considered to be the best puller to pieces of words of this sort.

LACHES: Yes, Socrates; and the examination of such niceties is a much more
suitable employment for a Sophist than for a great statesman whom the city
chooses to preside over her.

SOCRATES: Yes, my sweet friend, but a great statesman is likely to have a
great intelligence. And I think that the view which is implied in Nicias'
definition of courage is worthy of examination.

LACHES: Then examine for yourself, Socrates.

SOCRATES: That is what I am going to do, my dear friend. Do not, however,
suppose I shall let you out of the partnership; for I shall expect you to apply
your mind, and join with me in the consideration of the question.

LACHES: I will if you think that I ought.

SOCRATES: Yes, I do; but I must beg of you, Nicias, to begin again. You
remember that we originally considered courage to be a part of virtue.

NICIAS: Very true.

SOCRATES: And you yourself said that it was a part; and there were many other
parts, all of which taken together are called virtue.

NICIAS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: Do you agree with me about the parts? For I say that justice,
temperance, and the like, are all of them parts of virtue as well as courage.
Would you not say the same?

NICIAS: Certainly.

SOCRATES: Well then, so far we are agreed. And now let us proceed a step, and
try to arrive at a similar agreement about the fearful and the hopeful: I do not
want you to be thinking one thing and myself another. Let me then tell you my
own opinion, and if I am wrong you shall set me right: in my opinion the
terrible and the hopeful are the things which do or do not create fear, and fear
is not of the present, nor of the past, but is of future and expected evil. Do
you not agree to that, Laches?

LACHES: Yes, Socrates, entirely.

SOCRATES: That is my view, Nicias; the terrible things, as I should say, are
the evils which are future; and the hopeful are the good or not evil things
which are future. Do you or do you not agree with me?

NICIAS: I agree.

SOCRATES: And the knowledge of these things you call courage?

NICIAS: Precisely.

SOCRATES: And now let me see whether you agree with Laches and myself as to a
third point.

NICIAS: What is that?

SOCRATES: I will tell you. He and I have a notion that there is not one
knowledge or science of the past, another of the present, a third of what is
likely to be best and what will be best in the future; but that of all three
there is one science only: for example, there is one science of medicine which
is concerned with the inspection of health equally in all times, present, past,
and future; and one science of husbandry in like manner, which is concerned with
the productions of the earth in all times. As to the art of the general, you
yourselves will be my witnesses that he has an excellent foreknowledge of the
future, and that he claims to be the master and not the servant of the
soothsayer, because he knows better what is happening or is likely to happen in
war: and accordingly the law places the soothsayer under the general, and not
the general under the soothsayer. Am I not correct in saying so, Laches?

LACHES: Quite correct.

SOCRATES: And do you, Nicias, also acknowledge that the same science has
understanding of the same things, whether future, present, or past?

NICIAS: Yes, indeed Socrates; that is my opinion.

SOCRATES: And courage, my friend, is, as you say, a knowledge of the fearful
and of the hopeful?

NICIAS: Yes.

SOCRATES: And the fearful, and the hopeful, are admitted to be future goods
and future evils?

NICIAS: True.

SOCRATES: And the same science has to do with the same things in the future
or at any time?

NICIAS: That is true.

SOCRATES: Then courage is not the science which is concerned with the fearful
and hopeful, for they are future only; courage, like the other sciences, is
concerned not only with good and evil of the future, but of the present and
past, and of any time?

NICIAS: That, as I suppose, is true.

SOCRATES: Then the answer which you have given, Nicias, includes only a third
part of courage; but our question extended to the whole nature of courage: and
according to your view, that is, according to your present view, courage is not
only the knowledge of the hopeful and the fearful, but seems to include nearly
every good and evil without reference to time. What do you say to that
alteration in your statement?

NICIAS: I agree, Socrates.

SOCRATES: But then, my dear friend, if a man knew all good and evil, and how
they are, and have been, and will be produced, would he not be perfect, and
wanting in no virtue, whether justice, or temperance, or holiness? He would
possess them all, and he would know which were dangers and which were not, and
guard against them whether they were supernatural or natural; and he would
provide the good, as he would know how to deal both with gods or men.

NICIAS: I think, Socrates, that there is a great deal of truth in what you
say.

SOCRATES: But then, Nicias, courage, according to this new definition of
yours, instead of being a part of virtue only, will be all virtue?

NICIAS: It would seem so.

SOCRATES: But we were saying that courage is one of the parts of virtue?

NICIAS: Yes, that was what we were saying.

SOCRATES: And that is in contradiction with our present view?

NICIAS: That appears to be the case.

SOCRATES: Then, Nicias, we have not discovered what courage is.

NICIAS: We have not.

LACHES: And yet, friend Nicias, I imagined that you would have made the
discovery, when you were so contemptuous of the answers which I made to
Socrates. I had very great hopes that you would have been enlightened by the
wisdom of Damon.

NICIAS: I perceive, Laches, that you think nothing of having displayed your
ignorance of the nature of courage, but you look only to see whether I have not
made a similar display; and if we are both equally ignorant of the things which
a man who is good for anything should know, that, I suppose, will be of no
consequence. You certainly appear to me very like the rest of the world, looking
at your neighbour and not at yourself. I am of opinion that enough has been said
on the subject which we have been discussing; and if anything has been
imperfectly said, that may be hereafter corrected by the help of Damon, whom you
think to laugh down, although you have never seen him, and with the help of
others. And when I am satisfied myself, I will freely impart my satisfaction to
you, for I think that you are very much in want of knowledge.

LACHES: You are a philosopher, Nicias; of that I am aware: nevertheless I
would recommend Lysimachus and Melesias not to take you and me as advisers about
the education of their children; but, as I said at first, they should ask
Socrates and not let him off; if my own sons were old enough, I would have asked
him myself.

NICIAS: To that I quite agree, if Socrates is willing to take them under his
charge. I should not wish for any one else to be the tutor of Niceratus. But I
observe that when I mention the matter to him he recommends to me some other
tutor and refuses himself. Perhaps he may be more ready to listen to you,
Lysimachus.

LYSIMACHUS: He ought, Nicias: for certainly I would do things for him which I
would not do for many others. What do you say, Socrates-will you comply? And are
you ready to give assistance in the improvement of the youths?

SOCRATES: Indeed, Lysimachus, I should be very wrong in refusing to aid in
the improvement of anybody. And if I had shown in this conversation that I had a
knowledge which Nicias and Laches have not, then I admit that you would be right
in inviting me to perform this duty; but as we are all in the same perplexity,
why should one of us be preferred to another? I certainly think that no one
should; and under these circumstances, let me offer you a piece of advice (and
this need not go further than ourselves). I maintain, my friends, that every one
of us should seek out the best teacher whom he can find, first for ourselves,
who are greatly in need of one, and then for the youth, regardless of expense or
anything. But I cannot advise that we remain as we are. And if any one laughs at
us for going to school at our age, I would quote to them the authority of Homer,
who says, that

'Modesty is not good for a needy man.'

Let us then, regardless of what may be said of us, make the education of the
youths our own education.

LYSIMACHUS: I like your proposal, Socrates; and as I am the oldest, I am also
the most eager to go to school with the boys. Let me beg a favour of you: Come
to my house to-morrow at dawn, and we will advise about these matters. For the
present, let us make an end of the conversation.

SOCRATES: I will come to you to-morrow, Lysimachus, as you propose, God
willing.